


Day One

by walkerofthestars



Series: Whumptober 2020 [1]
Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Dick Grayson is Robin, Let's Hang Out Sometime, Torture, Wally West is Kid Flash, Whump, Whumptober, Whumptober 2020, slade wilson being an ass, torture but not graphically described, waking up restrained shackled hanging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:15:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28061532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walkerofthestars/pseuds/walkerofthestars
Summary: Whumptober 2020, day one: let's hang out some timeAs much as people liked to call him one, Robin wasn’t actually a bat.Nevertheless, he still woke up upside down, which was less than common. He usually preferred sleeping on his back, you know, like a normal person.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Wally West
Series: Whumptober 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2055567
Comments: 4
Kudos: 38





	Day One

**Author's Note:**

> Woooooooo we're finally uploading my whumptober fics to AO3 instead of leaving them in the limbo of Wattpad, wow.  
> only took a month and a half, lmao.  
> the character death is implied to be false, and I played with a short sequel to this where it was revealed to be. but I'll still keep the warning on just in case.  
> anyway, enjoy!

As much as people liked to call him one, Robin wasn’t actually a bat.  
Nevertheless, he still woke up upside down, which was less than common. He usually preferred sleeping on his back, you know, like a normal person.  
His eyes seemed almost glued together, he moved his hands to pry them open but found some difficulty with that. As soon as his muscles twitched they ached. He held back a wince as painful clarity settled in. his eyes cracked open just as he became aware of the pounding migraine. His vision was blurred and seemed to be moving more than it should for someone who was perfectly still. A wave of nausea overwhelmed him and for a moment he thought he might throw up, which would be less than ideal whilst hanging upside down by the ankles, but his body had long since decided it didn’t much so care what he wanted, it was going to make this whole experience that much worse regardless.  
Where was he again? Why was he there?  
He shook his head, trying to remove the cobwebs. He was quite sure everything had been stuffed with cotton. As he blinked and stared at the darkness around him he realised that he was bleeding. From everywhere.  
Well that was just grand.  
Oh, the sarcasm was still there, that was a good sign.  
He took a deep breath and it rattled on its way into his lungs. He coughed, spluttered, choking on oxygen and the blood that was slowly creeping up- or rather down- his throat.  
That was not a good sign.  
“awake again?” came a voice, low and drawling and nightmarish. Robin’s memories of the last few hours came flying back at the reminder of who had strung him up and cut him to pieces.  
The lighting was dim but there was enough for him to see the black and copper shadow walk past. Robin’s head was too slow to feel fear, it had already been through that. He’d already stared, horrified, terrified, as Deathstroke let weapons gleam before he sunk them into his skin. He’d already screamed and begged and prayed. He was at the end point now. There was barely any blood left to trickle out. His vocal chords had been torn to pieces, he could feel his insides filling with blood in places it shouldn’t be.  
“this would all be avoidable,” Deathstroke drawled, outside his line of vision as he approached his table of nightmare tools, “if you just said yes.”  
This was the part where he was supposed to spit in Deathstroke’s face, hiss between his teeth, growl out a confident _“I’ll never join you!”_  
But at this point the most he could muster was a huff of breath past his lips as it became harder and harder to get oxygen down his windpipe. He didn’t feel anything anymore, he was numb.  
Robin could only wonder what Slade’s plan would be if he said yes now. He was dying, he was going to die. Not even the Justice League’s medical professionals could save him. everything was broken, everything was torn, everything was shredded to pieces, and that included his mind.  
Robin was quite sure at this point the only thing he could hope for was death.  
But Slade knew what he was doing. Robin would not die in his hands unless he wanted him to. But he was pushing hard, if he kept at this pace Robin would die, surely he realised that.  
These were questions he couldn’t ask, however, because he barely had enough oxygen to get everything to work, let alone speak. He was quite sure the numbness in his legs was not just because they’d been utterly destroyed but because his brain had long since shut them down in hopes of sustaining itself.  
At least it couldn’t get more painful-  
He was wrong.  
Deathstroke began all over again, breaking and slashing and cutting. Robin could barely breath, definitely couldn’t speak, but he still managed to scream. His throat was bleeding, vocal chords torn apart to nothing, but he screamed. Sobbed. Silent pleas disappearing on his lips.  
Why couldn’t he just die?  
He was slipping again, back into sweet blissful unconsciousness. If he could slip into that and stay in that, if his brain could just _stop trying_ , he could die. He could stop. He could end.  
His prayers weren’t answered.  
As Deathstroke realised Robin was slipping away he put away his tools. About to walk out once more.  
But a blur of yellow and red appeared, eyes wild and terrified.  
Robin could almost cry just at the sight of Wally. If he was saved he’d be put through months of recovery in the hopes of saving him before he inevitably died. There’d be more pain on the horizon.  
If that didn’t happen, then Wally was about to die in front of him.  
Deathstroke took out a blade to attack Wally, but he wasn’t in the mood for a fight. he dodged every hit with his superspeed, not bothering to attack. Conner appeared at the door just as Wally ran past it and grabbed hold of Deathstroke, pulling him out of the room to keep the fight up.  
Wally turned to Robin, finally taking stock of the situation. His hand drifted to his mouth as he stared.  
Robin wanted to get out words, or at least breathe in enough to think past basic instinct.  
Wally awkwardly held him and released his legs from the ceiling. Robin collapsed in Wally’s arms, groaning.  
“you’re awake?” Wally asked, and his voice was shaking. Robin couldn’t decipher if he sounded scared, shocked, or relieved.  
He couldn’t answer him, just groan slightly as Wally moved his lifeless limbs.  
“okay,” Wally whispered, pursing his lips and trying to gain control of his shaking hands, “I’m gonna get you out of here.”  
Oh god no. Robin couldn’t do this. He couldn’t go through people’s horror stricken faces and their pleas to keep trying. He just wanted to die. Couldn’t they let him do that?  
But he couldn’t say that to Wally because his voice refused to work.  
Wally tried to get him out, bless his heart, but Deathstroke was a crafty little bitch who kept kryptonite on him. eventually he caught up to them.  
Wally fell, tripped more like, and dropped Robin. Everything already hurt so much that Robin barely noticed the additional agony. He did, however, notice the fact that he couldn’t feel anything below his waist, which wasn’t a good sign for his survival.  
Wally struggled to free himself of the bolas that Deathstroke had caught him in. Robin lay there, incapable of moving. His hands and ankles were still tied together, but even still everything hurt so much he wouldn’t want to move anyway.  
Deathstroke, however, had decided the easiest way to win this would be talking.  
He took a dagger and threw it, it landed straight in Wally’s ankle and he screamed. Robin almost snorted. Did that hurt, huh?  
While Wally tried to work up the courage to remove the blade and let his super healing handle it, Deathstroke walked over and squatted in front of him. Robin could hear the smirk in his voice.  
“if you take him from me he _will_ die.”  
Wally stuttered, Robin rolled his eyes. He was about to die no matter fucking what.  
“I can save him,” Deathstroke said.  
“I’m not leaving him with you,” Wally hissed.  
“no?” Deathstroke drawled, “look at him.”  
Wally refused, he didn’t turn his face, kept his eyes on Deathstroke.  
“Look,” Deathstroke growled, “at. Him.”  
Wally glanced, and Robin almost found this ridiculous. Looking at him wasn’t going to kill him. But Wally looked, and he swallowed, staring terrified at the state of his friend.  
“he will die.”  
“because you can save him,” Wally hissed, “he’ll die if I leave him with you.”  
Deathstroke laughed, chuckling darkly, “I have my ways.”  
Seriously, Wally? Robin almost wanted to snort at him. surely he knew that Deathstroke had a healing ability of his own, he probably still had whatever it was that gave that to him. it would seem that Wally hadn’t read the mission files.  
“do I need to sweeten the deal?” Deathstroke asked, and he stood. Walking slowly to Robin.  
“don’t you touch him, you son of bitch!” Wally hissed, trying to get to his feet. His foot was still bleeding, the knife still lodged square in his ankle. He could only grunt and hold back a scream as he failed to get up.  
Slade grabbed Robin by his hair, and he managed to only wince. He pulled him up, took out a dagger in his belt and held it at his throat.  
Wally was spewing every threat and curse word he knew.  
“sorry, would you like to say that louder?” Deathstroke drawled, “tell your mission buddies to _stand down_.”  
Wally stared, seething with rage, “fuck you!”  
Deathstroke sighed, “alright, I see how it is.”  
Robin didn’t see it coming. He thought Deathstroke would slit his throat and end it there, he was wrong. He was extremely, unfortunately wrong.  
Deathstroke took his dagger, held it backwards in his hand and plunged it into his eye.  
Robin managed a scream, writhing as best he could in Deathstroke’s grasp. He sobbed, wincing. There was a knife _in his eye_. He could feel it in his head, he was going to throw up.  
Deathstroke dropped him, waiting for Wally to say something, anything. Robin was just waiting to die.  
Wally’s hand moved to his commlink, M’gann’s mind link must be down or he wanted to make it obvious to Deathstroke that he’d told them to stand down.  
“everyone stop,” he said, voice low, “I’ve got Robin, I’m on my way out.”  
Oh, god no. Robin was trying to shake his head. he was just making this worse. He was going to get out there, sans Robin, and be met with uproar.  
But Deathstroke smiled behind his mask, took out a smoke bomb and dropped it.  
And that was the last the Justice League saw of Dick Grayson.


End file.
